


Time

by mulderbaby



Series: Fictober 2020 [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc (X-Files), F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Hurt Dana Scully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulderbaby/pseuds/mulderbaby
Summary: fictober day 17prompt: "just say it"
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Fictober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980989
Kudos: 8





	Time

Where does time go from here?  
Time, a universal invariant. Universal, yet subject to such a variety of understandings and interpretations. An invariant, but one that is in constant motion, vulnerable to the winds of change which blow so freely around us.

Where does time go from here?  
He wonders to himself. Wonders if there was something he could have done, or said, to avoid what was now inevitable.

Where does time go from here, from where he sits in the poorly lit hospital parking garage? Time, his only concern over the last 48 hours. Time, which she had very little of.

He has a choice to make. To trust, or not to trust, in the most dishonest of things he's ever known. Trust, for a chance to keep the clock ticking a little bit longer. But only a chance. Still, a chance he feels he was destined to take. A leap of blind faith. Giving up everything he believed in, everything he knew to be true, in exchange for a chance at more time. A chance, but at what cost?

He has a choice to make. To trust, or not to trust?

And what will he do if granted that time which he seeks so desperately? Will he finally pull himself together and tell her all those things which he'd been so adamantly hiding from her? Will he finally find the courage to be vulnerable and just say it, just tell her that he loves her? That he has always loved her, and that he always will love her.

Or will he sit alone in his car, as he does tonight, the emptiness of the night sky above now festering like an open wound inside of him, as darkness swallows a dying star. Burdened with his own perpetual guilt. Regret. Remorse. None of these things would give her more time.

He has a choice to make, and not a lot of time left to make it.

It is in this moment he realizes that his concern should not be how much time he has left, how much time he could have left, but what he is going to do with the the time that is guaranteed.

He has a choice to make.

And so he finds himself standing outside the window which looks into her room. She'd never looked so small, her sleeping body weakened by her treatment, by this horrendous man-made illness which had plagued her.

She is so small, but this does not make her weak. No, she is the strongest person he has ever known. She is small, but she is his strength, his everything.

A wave of guilt washes over him, as he doesn't want to disturb her, doesn't want to wake her from this sleep she needed to restore her energy, prolong the time she had remaining.

But Mulder wasn't so much concerned with quantity as he was with quality, at least in this moment. In this moment, he had to make sure she knew that he was here, and he would continue to be here as long as she was too.

There would be no deal. Nothing was worth sacrificing the time they had left together, however little it may be. He would not let his inherent selfishness persevere this time. He would not waste what little time he had left making deals with the devil when the closest thing to heaven he’d ever known was right in front of him.

She didn't even stir as he let himself in, walking slowly, quietly around her bed, his hand gliding over the end of it as he made his way to her side. He looked upon her motionless body, the pallor of her skin, and felt a tightness in his chest as images of her lifeless form flashed before his eyes.

He’d spent all of his time these last few days preoccupied with worry of losing her. Wasting precious hours searching for answers to questions he was never supposed to ask. Hours he could’ve spent with her, by her side here, making the very most of every minute, every second.

He worried about losing her for so long, and in that precious time which he’d looked upon with such blatant disregard, he now feared he may have already lost her.

Blinded by the tears which clouded his eyes, it took every last ounce of strength left in him to keep himself from falling to the floor upon his knees, begging her to live. Instead he crouched beside her, his head resting against her fragile arm, her skin cool against his. He found that he was no longer able to control the state of his breathing, nor the tears that scorched his cheeks as they flowed down his face and onto the sheets of her bed. Unable to get close enough to her, he latched onto her arm as a silent scream tore from his chest, the pain of losing her rendering him speechless. He clenched his jaw as another treacherous sob threatened to escape him, his breathing erratic as he gripped her tighter, afraid that if he let go now, she would slip away.

Where does time go from here? From this place where his perpetual darkness consumes not just his own being, but everything he touches?

What is the significance of time when everything he touches turns to dust before his very eyes?

Where does time go from here?  
His entire body shakes as he sobs into her skin, no longer able to bottle up the sea of emotions which had been cresting inside him.

Just say it, just tell her. 

“I’m so sorry.”

He was the sorriest son of a bitch the world had ever seen, but being sorry will not give them more time.

•••

“Mulder?” She murmurs before bolting upright at the sight of her lover crouched beside her, tear-stained cheeks and trembling from head to toe, coming apart at the seams. Her fingers glide through his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp in a soothing motion. A soft moan escapes his lips at the sensation, at the warmth that floods him as she pulls him to her bosom, cradling his head protectively, the feather-light kisses she presses to his face cleansing him of all of his misdeeds, his crimes of selfishness.

He cries for her as she brushes the angry, bitter tears from his cheeks, the tenderness within her singlehandedly curing him of his darkness, filling the void created by his own hubris.

Just say it, just tell her.   
“Mulder..” she purrs, her lips brushing against his face, kissing away several more tears that had slipped down his cheeks. Her lips, painting his skin with forgiveness, with unwavering love. Her lips, which soon found his own, kissing him with so much need, so much longing to make up for the time they had lost.

And for what reason? Nothing else seemed to matter now. Nothing other than the way their mouths meshed so perfectly as one, the joining of their lips a passageway for her to bring light to his darkness. To counter each and every moment of weakness with impeccable strength.

They clung to each other, legs intertwined and arms around each other, never able to be close enough. She, his guiding light, his constant, his touchstone, and he, the very air she would kill to breathe.

At last, time stood still for them, in awe of their perfect harmony in a world full of dissonance.

•••

“Sir, you really shouldn’t be here.”

Mulder woke with a panic, his eyes darting around the room, taking in his surroundings before landing on the nurse who stood in the doorway.

“She needs her rest more than anything right now.”

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he looked down at her. His Scully.

“I won’t..” he shook his head. “I won’t leave her.”

His eyes brimming with tears, he held her hand to his heart, his thumb brushing her knuckles as the nurse gave him a sympathetic smile before closing the door and leaving them alone again.

“Scully..”

His voice was bordering on a whine, but it didn’t matter. He would break down again at any given second.

Where does time go from here? From this room where she sleeps, her life slipping away with every passing moment as he longs to hold her, pleading with some higher power to take bum along with her when she goes.

Where does time go from here?  
He knows he can’t stay. Can’t burden her with this guilt, this pain he is feeling, this heartbreak that worsens with every second gone by as he is helpless to give her the time she deserves.

He knows he can’t stay. The sun will soon begin to rise, and judgement day will be upon him.

He knows he can’t stay, but as he rises to his feet, he feels the slightest tug on his shirt. A tug so gentle there was no doubt in his mind as to what had caused it. He looks down, seeing her fingers curled around the white fabric, asking him not to go just yet.

But as much as he wants to grant her wish, he knows that when morning comes she will likely have no recollection of this silent plea. His dream of her will be a distant memory, a foreshadowing of what isn’t and never would be.

When morning comes, the only thing that will have changed is that she will have even less time than she had when he stumbled in here, lost, searching aimlessly for a question that could never be answered.

Where does time go from here?  
\---


End file.
